For The Heart
by Anbu-chan
Summary: Stories to soothe an aching heart. MultixSaku one-shots
1. Chapter 1

A/N: so. Things have not been great for Anbu-chan. Not at all. But that's life and we have to get through it regardless. I recently posted an update on my profile, and everything I said there still stands. _The Barista_ will be updated once I can load files onto my computer and when I can get access to a computer (I'm typing using my phone right now) and I intend to work on more more serious focus after my overhaul. This stuff, this is for me, thus the name, _For the Heart_. All very simple stuff here, one shots at the moment. If I like something enough I might make something of it, but we'll see. Please, give a little love and review, tell me what you think. It would be great to hear from all of you.

Prompt: prompt #892 from thependragonwritersguild on tumblr

" **Whenever I kissed that boy, his wings were always spread."**

I do not own Naruto. Enjoy.

* * *

The first time Sakura laid eyes on him, he was lying in his own pool of blood in the grass of her backyard. Her heart jumped — _is that a wing? Oh my god, it is—_ before she went to him, attempting to wake the strange man who had just fallen into her backyard, smushing her prized rose bushes with his fifteen-foot wingspan that she couldn't seem to wrap her head around, _nope not yet._

He was beautiful, she noticed when she got close to him. Covered in white and gleaming metal, he seemed as if he was surrounded by an otherworldly glow, and she was almost afraid to touch him.

"Sir, you need to get up and get to a hospital," she said, touching his shoulder lightly. "You're bleeding all over my hydrangeas."

And it was true, he was. Hysterically, she decided that if he wasn't well enough to go to the hospital, he could stay in her house, but her garden was _not_ the place to be passed out.

Sakura shook his shoulder again, hoping that it would wake him up. It did, and as soon as he opened his eyes, she was lost in them. Strange rings formed around his irises, which were a soft lavender in color, and seemed to be the new center point of gravity regarding her. The longer she stared into his eyes, the farther she seemed to sink into them, like some sort of black hole.

"Who are you?" She croaked, wincing at how throaty her voice sounded.

The man, with his strange eyes and deep ginger hair, blinked at her. He broke eye contact, allowing her to gasp for air again, before trailing his gaze all over her body.

"I am Pein," he said. She looked at him, very lost, and realized that his name should've meant something to her, according to the scandalized way he looked at her.

"Ok…" she trailed off. "I'm Sakura and you landed in my garden and you're bleeding all over the place. Maybe we should go to the hospital?" She asked him, hoping she could get some sort of control of the situation at hand.

He blinked once more, looking down languidly at his injured wing. The white and grey speckled feathers were soaked with blood. "This is a mere wound, I have suffered far worse. There is no need to worry, mortal."

And before Sakura could compute the sentence, — _mere wound,_ mortal _?—_ he was standing up, towering over her and wings stretching out. The tips of them brushed against the wooden fence she had built around the house.

She stood up, and grabbed the sweater from around her waist. It was an old, ratty thing she got from her friend Karin yeas ago, and she still wore it and loved it, but she handed it to the bleeding man anyway. Bundling it up, she pressed it into the sluggishly bleeding cut on his magnificent wings, steadily avoiding his trance-inducing eyes. "For the bleeding," she said, as if her actions needed clarifiying.

She could feel his gaze on her neck, the prickling feeling of being watched making her hairs stand up. She was a head shorter than him, and petite compared to his wide shoulders. She felt small, and backed away as soon as he put his hand on the bundled up clothing. He seemed to have some sort of aura around him, that pressed down on her like gravity was heavier, and she wasn't accustomed to it.

He watched her intently as she retreated. "Thank you," he said, his voice a rich sound in her ears. "You're welcome," she murmured back at him.

"You have helped one of God's angels. You will be rewarded," he said, and her head snapped up.

 _What?_

The whole situation had her brain short circuiting, and it stopped altogether when he stretched his wings out completely. Despite being drenched in sanguine, they were gorgeous and looked incredibly soft, a mixture of small down feathers and longer, hardier feathers. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, and despite herself, she felt her whole face heat up at the feeling of warm lips on her skin.

A very embarrassed, "Eep!" escaped her, but before she could think too much about it, he was launching himself into the sky and propelling himself ever upward into threatening-looking thunder clouds. When Sakura could no longer see him, rain burst down from the heavens; perhaps as if the earth could not bare to see him go, or the heavens cried to have him home.

 _What?_

Dizzy, she turned back to her house, not minding the blood that was still on her flowers. With the upcoming thunderstorm, it would all wash away.

A couple of weeks later, when Sakura had thought it was all a dream, a rainstorm hit her neighborhood again, despite the fact that the wet season had ended quite a while ago. Through it all, her sweater and a sprig of daisies sat on her open windowsill, the one overlooking her garden.

It wasn't a dream.

Every time after, when a storm hit out of season, she knew to expect him. He was a Devine Being, and she had no idea what his interest was with a mortal like her, but when he wasn't defending the heavens, he was at home in her backyard, overlooking her as she cooed to her chrysanthemums and her lilies.

And every time he kissed her, his wings were ready to take him where she could not follow. Although, each kiss lasted a little bit longer than the previous, and in that she found her comfort.

* * *

A/N: let me know what you think. Ciao, Anbu-chan


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: once again, another installation. A review would be appreciated.

Prompt: prompt #886 from thependragonwritersguild on tumblr

" **In the last six months of my life, I was a teacher."**

I don't known Naruto. Enjoy.

* * *

Sakura decides to take a genin team, despite her knowing better. The Third had been pushing for her to leave the shadow ranks, pass down her knowledge, retire essentially. Everyone knows that retiring isn't really in the shinobi vocabulary, because most don't last long enough for their bodies to catch up to their miraculous feats. Only the special do. Only the _dangerous_ do.

So when she realizes her time on the earth was growing shorter, she wouldn't be here for much longer, no not after she had released the Byakugou seal one too many times — _the Third War, Kakashi and Obito_ died, _the Kyūbi and Sensei!—_ she decides it would be okay to give in a little bit.

She smiles down at her students, even though she feels her heart crack just a little bit.

Sasuke Uchiha, who looks like his older brother Itachi, the one she has too many regrets to consider as a partner properly — _she is old and tired and has seen too much and doesn't want to waste his love she knows is worth more than she can ever give back—_ stares back at her with big, onyx eyes.

Naruto Uzumaki, who is a strange mix of his mother, his father — _Minato-sensei!—_ and Obito, _god Obito,_ her wayward teammate. He is cheerful like a sunflower and is too bright and too beautiful for her to look at for too long.

And finally, the quietest of the bunch. Sai. Just Sai. Reserved, but ready to plaster on a fake smile at any moment; she catches the way his hands tremor and his back is facing the corner so that he could see any attack coming at him. She knows those signs, — _maybe not Root, but too young, too mature like Kakashi, he's seen too much, definitely abused—_ and knows that she has her hands full.

She knows her body will deteriorate within the next few years, given the drain of the seal on her forehead, the way it caused her cells to regenerate in a way that can only happen so many times before the body cannot sustain itself anymore. Yet…

"I'm Sakura Haruno, and I will be your jōnin-sensei," she says. She observes their reactions, Naruto's bright grin and rosy cheeks, Sasuke's suspicious glare and Sai's caution.

 _They could be great,_ something sounding like Kakashi whispers in her ear.

 _Give them a try, don't fail them like the others,_ another voice encourages. This one sounds like Obito.

Somehow, even though she knows it's mostly her head making up these whispers, she knows they're right.

And maybe, just maybe, she could figure out a way to stop the side affects of the seal, if only to let her be these kids sensei for as long as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I enjoyed writing this one, I hope you all enjoy reading it. Lots of italics.

Prompt: Spaghetti

" **Naruto is mad bc they're eating spaghetti not ramen and Sakura's done, Sasuke is dodging bread sticks, and Kakashi is eating too fast for anyone to peep at his face."**

I do not own Naruto. Enjoy.

* * *

Naruto is furious.

"What is this _blasphemy_."

Sakura is just about done.

"That's spaghetti, Naruto. It's good, I made it. You should try it."

Sasuke is rolling his eyes.

"It's not that bad, dobe."

Kakashi has his nose buried deep in his " _romantic"_ literature, and is too busy to pay anyone attention.

"These are noodles. But they're not ramen. I don't understand?"

Naruto is unable to comprehend that noodles can be used for things other than his favorite food.

"Yes, it's from Italy. It's called pasta. Look, Sasuke is eating his, and Kakashi…" Sakura trails off.

Three-fourths of the table turns to look at the man with the scarf around his face, obscuring it from sight. His plate is empty, practically licked clean and his scarf is _still_ hiding his face.

"Kakashi is Kakashi," she finishes with a long sigh. "Just try it, Naruto."

"But it has tomatoes! How do you expect me to eat that? I'm not the teme!"

Sasuke rolls his eyes so hard that Sakura thinks they'll get stuck there.

"No. If you were, you'd be smarter."

"Maa, kiddies, let's not get too excited. We should enjoy this meal that Sakura-chan worked so hard to make for us," says Kakashi, who goes unnoticed by everyone but a blushing Sakura.

"What did you say, _teme_?!"

"I said you're a dobe, _dobe_!"

"Oh yeah? W-well, who has hair like a duck's ass?"

"Who was the lowest in the class all four years of high school?"

"Not me!"

"Naruto, it was you," interrupts Sakura, but she is ignored.

"Who got his fingers stuck in a Chinese finger trap and had to have Itachi to save him?"

Sasuke twitches, his grip on his fork tightening. "I told you not to ever mention that again," he hisses, and Naruto looks smug.

"Who ate a whole box of crayons in fifth grade thinking it would make his hair change colors?"

"It seemed like a good idea!"

"Well, it wasn't!"

"Well, you still get tucked in by your mother!"

" _So do you!"_

"I don't see where this is getting us," Kakashi says, but he also goes ignored.

"That's it!"

A ramen deprived Naruto is a depraved Naruto.

Naruto lets out a battle cry and grabs the closest thing to a sword near him, which happens to be a breadstick that Sakura made with love and care, but still came out sort of burnt and covered in enough garlic that one look at it could scare away all the vampires in the vicinity, but Sasuke still hasn't left yet so it must not be _that_ strong. No one said the pink haired woman was a particularly good cook.

"Wait, no! Naruto, _Naruto_! Give that back, that's _my_ _breadstick you heathen!"_

The breadstick flies past Sasuke's head, only to be followed by another.

"Maa, how rude," sighs Kakashi, brushing off the crumbs from the wayward piece of bread off his shoulder.

Sakura grabs a breadstick before it can be used as a projectile weapon and eats it, because even though _other_ people don't like her cooking _she does and she will_ enjoy _it._

Sasuke retaliates in response to Naruto's declaration of war. He grabs the pot of spaghetti, flinging the plain noodles at the blonde.

" _No_! This is supposed to be a _nice_ dinner!" Sakura cries.

The boys fight on, flinging various Italian foods at one another. The bruschetta goes airborne for a moment before splattering all over Sasuke's nice shirt, and the meatballs leave stains all across Naruto's jeans and bright blonde hair. Something gets on Sasuke's clan insignia. He sees red.

"Maa, Sakura-chan, you look frazzled. How about I take you out to dinner instead? We'll have the boys clean up their mess after they're done," Kakashi sidles up to the poor young woman, who turns to look at him skeptically.

"You won't foist the bill off to me like you do every other time?" She eyes him in suspicion.

He puts his hands up. "No, not this time."

Sakura gives him a long look, and then agrees silently, avoiding the cannoli on the floor.

"Fine, but we're getting sushi, the _nice_ kind."

"The _expensive_ kind, you mean."

She takes one look at her newly destroyed dining room and says, "Same thing, really."

Kakashi shrugs. "Come on, let's go, Sakura-chan."

The two leave the house, which has turned into a war zone made up of food.

When the boys come to their senses an hour and a half later, the house is a mess and their two friends are missing.

"Where's Sakura-chan?" Naruto asks.

"Shit, she's gonna be _pissed_ ," mutters Sasuke.

"Where's _Kakashi_?" Naruto asks, his voice pitched higher.

"We need to clean this up." Sasuke gets more frantic, opening cupboards for the cleaning supplies he knows are under there. "Before she has our heads."

"KAKASHI HAS STOLEN MY SWEET SAKURA-CHAN! SASUKE, HURRY WE HAVE TO FIND HER BEFORE HE PUTS HIS PERVY HANDS ON HER! NO— TEME STOP CLEANING THERE'S NO TIME TO WASTE! HER VIRTUE IS AT STAKE!"

Meanwhile, Sakura and Kakashi are having a lovely dinner over expensive sushi, talking about all sorts of things that do not involve the two idiots back at Sakura's house.

Kakashi sneezes.

"Are you getting a cold?" Sakura asks.

"Maybe," he shrugs.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I really love this one. This one makes me happy, i might make something of it later, we'll see. Please leave reviews, they make me happy and I need that right now.

Prompt: prompt #851 from thependragonwritersguild on tumblr

" **I remember when chess used to be so simple. But now they use a spherical board and the pieces are more diverse and collectible."**

I do not own Naruto. Enjoy.

* * *

"I remember when chess used to be so simple. But now they use a spherical board and the pieces are more diverse and collectible."

Those were the first words Tsunade said to her, as she set down a strange, round board with even stranger runes along the entire edge. Then, she placed down a box, one filled with gleaming white pieces, twisted and molded into equally strange shapes.

"What is this?" Sakura asked her godmother and Shishō, tilting her head at the whole game board. She had never heard of chess.

"Right," Tsunade grumbled, pushing a piece of hair out of her face. "You haven't left the forest yet."

Tsunade opened the box and began to set the pieces up, explaining as she went.

"You're young, and one of the few remaining of your folk. Sometimes I forget how little experience you have with the outside world yet. It's a human strategy game, with a very simple goal of catching the opponents king piece."

Sakura nodded, fiddling with her long fishtail braid as she watched the old witch doctor. It made sense that she had never heard of it. What little she knew of the outside world was information given to her through Tsunade and the slugs of the Shikkotsu Forest. Thankfully, no one ever sugarcoated things for her. "Like war strategy," she summarized.

Tsunade nodded. "Yes. This game is old —as far as human standards go— dating back to at least a few millennia. It used to be a very simple game, but since technology is advancing so rapidly for humans, the game is no longer useful to them."

Sakura picked up one of the white pieces, taking in the unique features of the wooden figurines. This one, like all the others, was quirky and incredibly detailed for such a small piece of wood. A little man, with a severe expression glared back at her, arms crossed and some strange gourd strapped along his back.

"Then what has made it change?" Sakura asked. "It looks like any other game board with pretty normal pieces."

Her godmother shook her head and sighed. "Nowadays, this game has been forgotten by humans, thrown to the wayside to make room for the digital era. It's fallen into the hands of us supernatural folk, and that's where things get tricky.

"The wooden pieces are valuable, special. Magic can be sealed into them, and they come to life. It's no longer just a board, it's a physical battle."

The piece in Sakura's hand weighed more all of a sudden, as if the truth of the pieces made them all the heavier.

"Oh," she said. Gently putting the piece down, she continued, "So these pieces serve some other purpose when they are fully formed."

"Yes," her mentor sighed. "Here, under Katsuyu's protection, we are safe from the wars that are being waged. But, these pieces aren't just little wooden board figurines. They are real, they have magical cores and are being used as we speak to win battles in the outside world." She sneered. "They are favored by the large clans and politicians who have no value of life, throwing away their pieces like garbage when they're no longer useful."

"But I don't understand," Sakura said, tugging at her braid. "Why would I need this?"

Her mentor have her a long look. "You know why, Sakura."

After a moment of silence, she spoke. "It's because I'm one of the last of the woodland folk, isn't it?"

Sakura was one of the last few of a dying race of fae. Renowned for their magic and strong connection to all things natural, the power of the Woodland Fae could be incredibly useful in battle. It was rare that her ancestors could be found on the battlefield, despite this. Pacifists by nature, it went against the very core of them to harness their magic to harm others. The only time it was mentioned that a fae of her kind entered the battlefield was millennia ago, when Hashirama stood tall beside Madara and the Uchiha clan, a family of fire yōkai.

Tsunade nodded, the question hanging heavy in the air. She finally turning her full attention to the young woman who was practically her daughter. Taking in her long pink hair and the flower crown on her head, her pointed ears and eyes that seemed too wide, too green, taking it all in. Her Sakura was something fierce, of course, but there was a reason she had gifted her with this set.

"You will have to leave the forest one day, Sakura. And it's a scary world out there. I will do my best to help you, you know that, but the best thing you can do is have this." She pushed the set towards her, and Sakura gingerly placed her hands on the board game, where her set of white soldiers stares back st her. It seemed as though she had an incomplete set, with missing pieces, but the ones she did have were her responsibility now.

"You need this if you're not going to become someone else's pawn in this whole convoluted mess. You can always come back here in times of need, but Shikkotsu won't be able to protect you the way it has for much longer, after my spells run out. These soldiers are your best bet until your magic matures and you become eligible to sign a contract with a summons, like I have with Katsuyu. That will ensure you a safe haven if you ever need one."

Tsunade had been regularly updating the seals that kept her goddaughter safe in the forest. It was an ancient place filled with magic ten times older than herself, she knew. It ran in her veins, thanks to the name, her name, written in blood on the scroll binding her to the slugs. Sakura wasn't garuanteed that safety. Sakura was growing into her magic everyday, practicing more and more under Tsunade's watchful eye, but there wasn't enough time.

Tsunade pointed at a rune on the board. "This is where you'll stand among them," she said. And the place she pointed to was at the center of the semi-circle, slightly ahead of them all.

Sakura shook her head. "These pieces are more than just pieces right? If they are mine, then I will stand with them, not ahead or behind them. I will take care of them."

Tsunade's honey colored eyes widened briefly, before softening. "I know, you will do well."

It went unsaid, as she looked at the wooden faces who stood there, staring back at her and her apprentice, but she knew they would take good care of her too. Their fates had been sealed the moment Sakura declared to protect them, for she knew the pieces were still somewhat sentient even in their wooden form.

"This is an incomplete set, but it's one that I have been collecting for a while now. Most of them are made of different types of wood, and do not belong to the same original set. Some were made by clans for clansmen and have been forgotten, others were lost, and some were tossed away when they were deemed no longer useful, but I don't believe in any of that. They will serve you well."

Sakura nodded. "Yes, Shishō."

Motioning with her hand, Tsunade picked up the king, and held it out to the woodland fae. "Meet your queen. The king is the most important piece on the board, but I have always believed that your queen is your most valuable," she said, thinking back to the old rules that humans used to have for the game, although they weren't applied the same way anymore.

She held her hand out, and Sakura reached for it, hesitating only slightly. When Sakura took her queen from her mentor's hand, she let her magic flow freely.

The piece floated from her hand and into the air briefly, before shifting and expanding into something new in place of the wooden figure.

A woman with rusty red hair kneeled at Sakura's feet. Dressed in blue, with a sultry face and sharp eyes, she knew that this woman was befitting of her title. "I am Mei," she introduced herself, staring at her new chess master.

Sakura smiled. "Welcome home."

* * *

A/N: this one is my favorite so far. Tell me what you think. Ciao, Anbu-chan


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Anbu-chan is really not doing well rn. I'm trying to find solace in my writing, but even that's getting harder. I've been traveling for over a month now and I'm tired and emotionally drained and I want to find happiness in my writing.

Prompt: prompt #864 from thependragonwritersguild on tumblr

" **He was the only swordsman that would sing the night before a battle."**

I don't own Naruto. Enjoy.

* * *

When the Fourth Shinobi War was upon them, Sakura was assigned to a platoon, one led by Kakashi-sensei. She was glad he was her leader, and perhaps she was biased from all the nights she spent curled up against his side as a genin as he took night watch in unfamiliar territory, but she knew he would do his best to keep them all safe. Keep casualties low, because those who abandon their teammates. She knew that mantra like she knew her own face, her hands, her skill as a shinobi. It was part of her.

But it didn't stop the fear of war. For once, there was something that not even Kakashi-sensei could do to soothe her worries. War. War and bloodshed and more names on her heart, more blood on her hands, more ghosts at her back. Her fear dragged her out of her tent, the one the platoon had set up as their base camp, miles away from the frontlines. It took her to the fire, to the warmth and light that she couldn't find within herself.

Across from her, separated by flames, was someone she recognized. She had trouble for a moment, pinning his name down, but she'd know his hair anywhere. It was nearly as distinct as hers. Chōjūrō of the Mist.

"Can't sleep?" He called out softly.

"No," she responded, shaking her head. "I've seen battle, but this…"

"It's different," he finished for her. She shrugged her agreement, letting her head drop to her tucked in knees.

"I like to sing."

She looked up sharply at the odd admission, which seemed to have come out of the blue.

"It's Kiri tradition," he continued. "For swordsmen to sing, before they enter battle. It's a tradition as old as the craft of blacksmiths in Wave. Not many people do it anymore, it's fallen out of practice, but when I first heard the singing, I was maybe five years old. My grandfather sang his song. I couldn't forget it. Now, it calms me down."

Sakura looks at him, both intrigued and confused, but then he opens his mouth again.

Words, or what she assumes are words, pour out of his mouth in a lilting melody. It sounds like what she thinks water would sound like, if it had a language other than it's soft murmurs, quiet babies and distant roaring. The song was in some minor key, somber and high. He couldn't hit all the notes perfectly, but the sound is haunting. She assumes the language he sings in is an archaic form of the Kiri dialect.

She was tempted to ask him what he sang about when he finished, but she refrained. The look on his face was peaceful, and she realized that the tradition must have some sort of personal significance. She remained quiet.

"Does Konoha have anything like that?"

Sakura thinks for a moment. "We have war drums and chants, those are older than the Founders. And a song that we sing at every shinobi funeral, but nothing like that. It was beautiful."

The young man shrugs, and she can't tell from the fire, but she swears his face heats up for a short moment. "Thanks," he whispers.

"You're welcome," she whispers back. Chōjūrō smiles at her, pointed teeth gleaming in the firelight but it doesn't seem threatening, not while his deep cobalt blue eyes are so soft they're running water.

"The lyrics of the song? They're about how the soldiers survive the battle."

Sakura smiles, and despite herself, she believes him.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: yep. Dealing with the worst break up ever, didn't even get told in person or on the phone just over text and a continent away. That's how you do it folks, that's how you completely and successfully break a persons heart into tiny pieces. On the bright side, my poetry book is coming along now. It should be published by next year if anyone is interested.

i don't own Naruto. Enjoy.

* * *

Sasuke _hates_ Itachi's friends. Sure, he loved his brother with everything he had, but his friends are another matter. They are loud and rude and constantly make fun of him. They like to shout and scream and Sasuke particularly _hates_ Deidara, who makes fun of Itachi too— why does he keep him around?

But what Sasuke hates _most_ is when Sakura is around while they're around. Sweet, gentle Sakura. His classmate and one of his two best friends since kindergarten. Sakura, with her long pink hair, her bright green eyes and her pale skin, freckles and dimples. Her soft laugh and softer hands.

They look at her as if they want to eat her alive. Itachi's friends, all bad boys to the core, in their leather and dark jeans give her hungry looks as she flutters by in her grey sweaters and blue jeans and ballet flats. She is the exact opposite of them, and in the worst way possible —in Sasuke's humble opinion— opposites attract.

The worst though, is when they cracked the jokes. _The jokes._ They don't want to give up making fun of him, no, but they will spare the young woman the experience of their more crude jokes. So that means he has to deal with puns. _Bad ones._ And today, his hair was the subject of the matter, once again.

"Who's your hair stylist? A toddler?"

"Can I have their card?"

"Did you run by cattle today, Sasuke?"

"I don't remember you guys having chickens."

Someone squawks like a parrot.

"Hey Kisame?"

"Yeah, Deidara?"

"What do you call it when Sasuke is home from college?"

"I don't know, what?"

"Duck season."

And everyone dies of laughter, even though he doesn't understand how these puns could be considered _funny._ And Sakura, whose eyes crinkle and sparkle and whose hand comes up to cover her mouth to hide the smile everyone wants to see. She enjoys it. She thinks it's a strange sort of love, like the one he has with Naruto.

And so Itachi's friends continue, even though Itachi sends them occasional reprimanding looks. Sasuke will try to let it go, even though there is no love lost between him and those _idiots,_ but he will relent, so long as he sees Sakura smile like that.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Love is a slow healing process. It always will be when you feel very strongly about something or someone and you loose that thing. But I'll heal. This prompt was a situation that actually happened to me, in our Bucharest apartment.

Prompt: Piano

" **While traveling Europe, I was in the bathroom getting ready for bed when a neighbor started playing piano music. I spent 30 minutes sitting on the toilet lid by the window just listening."**

I don't own Naruto. Enjoy.

* * *

When Itachi Uchiha announced he would not be taking his fathers' place as Chief of the Uchiha Police Corps, and would be moving out of the traditional clan compound, it caused an uproar. Of course, it was one he had been expecting, but it was still a pain to deal with. As the eldest son, it was expected of him to take up the mantle and replace his father, but that wasn't what Itachi wanted from his life. He had gone to school, gotten a law degree, and had even participated in the country's national guard for two years. He was practically a cop already, but he didn't have a badge, and didn't want one. A fast-paced life of violence wasn't what he was suited for.

He knew his younger brother Sasuke wanted the position for himself, but loved Itachi too much to contend with him for the title. So when he made his announcement over family dinner, he caught Sasuke's eye and found happiness at the way his brothers cheeks reddened and his stoic face broke into a small, barely there smile.

His mother was supportive, as always. His father, while disapproving, knew that the police force wasn't for his eldest son, even though he knew he would flourish at the head of it. With pride, he knew his son would flourish anywhere. It was not his immediate family that objected to his decisions. No, it was the clan elders.

These men and women had been putting pressure on Itachi for years to become the new Chief, and once they heard of his decision, they were thrown into a frenzy. Fugaku, being the head of the clan as well as the Corps, had the final choice in the matter, but that didn't stop the elders from complaining.

Either way, they had to give up the matter when Itachi began packing his things to move out. He felt bad, knowing his brother would have to deal with them in the future and their heavy expectations, but he knew his brother would take the challenge head on and succeed regardless of their influence. As he was placing away picture frames filled with his family and friends, his mother stepped into the room.

"Itachi-chan," she called to him. Mikoto was the sort of woman who would always dote on her children regardless of age.

"Kaa-san," he greeted her with a small smile. "Don't let Tou-san catch you calling me that. He'll think you're spoiling me."

Mikoto rolled her eyes in amusement. "He _knows_ I spoil you two. What's he going to do about it?"

Itachi chuckled, because his mother was right. His father, and all of them really, were at the beck and call of the Uchiha matriarch.

"It's hard to see you leave," she sighed after a moment of silence.

Itachi looked down at a photo of him and his cousin Shisui, their young and smiling faces looking back at him. It had been taken right after they had won a particularly intense soccer game back in middle school.

"I know, but I will be very close to the compound. I found an apartment in the downtown sector of Konoha." In fact, the apartment he found was very nice, small and studio styled and just enough space for himself. While the compound itself was placed farther away from the center of the city, his mother often went shopping in the market district, which was conveniently located near his new home. She would be able to visit him whenever she liked.

"Yes," she relented. "You'll be close by and you'll come to family dinners on Thursday nights like always," —there she shot him a warning look, and he placed his palms up in surrender— "it still isn't easy to see you leave this room. It's been yours since I moved your crib out of our room."

And it was true. Even at school, when he could've lived in a dorm, he had chosen to commute to the university and stay at home. It wasn't that he didn't like the dorm life; he just knew he was a little too quiet for it. This would be the first time he stepped away from the shadow of hus family and the clan compound, and at twenty-six, he was excited for it.

"Kaa-san," he said, giving his mother a hug. "It'll be okay, I'll be fine. Trust me. It's otouto you have to worry about."

She laughed, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. "What will he do without his aniki?"

Itachi rolled his eyes. "Live with Mr. and Mrs. Namikaze-Uzumaki. He spends half of his waking time at their house anyway."

Hiccuping slightly, Mikoto shook her head, and released her son from her embrace.

"Come on, let me help you finish packing." And then the two fell into a comfortable silence, putting the remainder of Itachi's things into boxes. When they were done, he stood at the doorway and overlooked it. He had piles of boxes to show that soon he'd be completely independent. It was a refreshing feeling, after being reliant on his family and their name for so long. Of course, he'd still have the name and the power behind it, but it wouldn't give him much more than looks of respect where he went.

His mother left the room quickly after they finished, and he didn't blame her. She was overwhelmed by the fact that her eldest son would be leaving the house, and the empty room was evidence enough.

"You're leaving already?" Sasuke, who had jut gotten home and was walking to his room, asked with wide onyx eyes. "I thought you'd be staying for at least another week or two."

Itachi shook his head, his low ponytail swinging behind him. "No point in dragging it out, otouto. I already have the apartment and the furniture all set up, I just need to finish moving in."

"Ah," his brother replied, not sure how to feel about the sudden change. Sasuke knew that this move would be good for his older brother, and that him deciding to pursue a career in law left the position at the Corps open to him. It was a win-win situation all around, but it didn't change the fact that he'd miss Itachi, regardless.

"Is Kisame coming to help you move in?" He asked Itachi, and the man nodded.

"Kisame said he'd be here soon."

Sasuke sighed. "Okay, aniki."

The two started moving all of Itachi's boxes outside, while their mother bustled around in the kitchen. The smell of something sweet wafted into the air as they bustled in and out of the house. They shared a look, knowing that their mother tended to bake when she was stressed. The older of the two let his cutiousity get to him and made his way into the kitchen.

"What are you making, kaa-san?" He asked, looking over her shoulder. If the shape didn't give it away, the distinctive colors did. "Oh, dango," he breathed, eyebrows raising with delight.

"Just for you, 'Tachi-chan," she smiled, giving him a kiss on the cheek. He took it with grace, savoring his mothers love and affection. She'd always treat him like a child, he knew that, but things were changing and he was going to enjoy things as they were before everything began to shift. He was an _adult_ , he assured himself, as he snuck a stick of dango away from his mother. She laughed and whacked away the second hand that was reaching for another stick, but let him go. Grinning, he enjoyed the treat he had managed to foist away quickly enough from Mikoto.

"Shoo, shoo. Get out of my kitchen," she said, brandishing a wooden spoon at him in what was supposed to be a threatening matter. "If Kisame gets here early, I'll pack some for you to take with you," Mikoto called as he dutifully retreated from the kitchen.

"Thank you," he responded, crossing back over the threshold and meeting his brother in the living room. It was no secret that Itachi Uchiha had the biggest sweet tooth in the entire clan. What was a secret though, was how he managed to stay so thin despite the sweets and deserts he could shovel down in just one sitting.

"So that's where you went," Sasuke shook his head. Itachi just smirked back, and was about to reply, when his phone went off.

"That must be Kisame," he murmured, locating the phone in his pocket and answering the incoming call.

"Hello?"

" _Itachi_!"

Said man jerked his phone away from his ear, where it was ringing from the volume.

"Inside voice, Kisame," Itachi chided.

" _Oops, sorry. I forget how mousy you can be sometimes!"_

Itachi just rolled his eyes. "You saw me three days ago."

All he received was boisterous laughter. Kisame was his oldest friend aside from his cousin Shisui, having gone to the same high school and college together. They were opposites at times, but always got along.

"Come on, I'll open the gate for you," he said as he punched in a code that opened the gate in the front driveway. The Uchiha clan compound was like a mini neighborhood, consisting of multiple traditional Japanese houses lining various roads. The entire place was guarded by a fence, and visitors required access to get into the gates. Despite this seemingly intense security, plenty of visitors were allowed in and out. While quiet and sometimes stoic, the Uchiha were not an unfriendly bunch.

Loud music and crunching gravel preceded Kisame as he drove his car up to the main house where he and his family lived. Opening the door, he was greeted by his best friend, who hung out the drivers window of a very large, very blue pickup truck.

"Come on, pretty boy. Let's get you settled in your new home," he jeered at him and Itachi rolled his eyes, not bothering to answer him, heading to the truck with his things already in hand.

"You're rude, you know that?" Kisame huffed, as he lifted three boxes and put them in the bed of his truck.

"Noted," he replied dully. His tall friend just chuckled, and the two of them continued moving his things into the truck, Sasuke silently coming to help them.

The three of them made quick work, and before they knew it, the truck was filled and they were ready to go. His mother gave him a box of dango, a hug, and a watery smile. Sasuke hugged him, before he got into the front seat, and waved his childhood home away.

"You ready?" Kisame asked.

Itachi nodded. "Yes."

The move-in was simple and quiet. Perhaps Kisame knew that he needed time to think, regardless, he remained silent and helped him the entire time.

"You're going to like this place, Itachi. Don't worry about it." Kisame places a hand on his shoulder when they finished. "It's not easy, leaving everything you know. But it's worth it.

Itachi smiled at his friend. "Thank you, Kisame."

The man with navy blue hair laughed. "That was so mushy of us, I'm disgusted! Come on, let's go get some dinner! God knows you need to fatten up a little bit! How does Chinese take out sound?"

"It sounds like you're becoming my mother, that's what."

"Hey!"

The two of them shared another laugh. Dinner was a rowdy affair, as always when Kisame was around. But, when he and his friend parted ways at the door, Itachi was left with himself and his thoughts to keep him company. Not liking the silence, and not sure where his radio was in the various boxes scattered around, he opened his wide bay windows. The sounds of the city greeted his ears, and to his surprise, so did the sound of a piano.

He sat there, for what felt like hours, listening to the piano from his windows. The songs blended and melded beautifully, some he recognized and some he didn't. One song flowed into another in a beautiful symphony of sound, and Itachi was caught up in the peace that the music brought. When it ended, the sun had long already set in the sky and he ached to hear the music again.

This became a routine. As he settled into his new home, and into his new job at _Firm Shiranui,_ he would spend every night listening to the mysterious pianist who played like clockwork. When he sat down with dinner, the music would play and play until at least two hours after he was finished with his meal. He loved it. He paid careful attention to the dips and rises of the songs, the keys and tones of each piece. Soon, he began to tell his pianists moods, based on the music they played. Some days the music was light and airy, and other days dark and somber. Worryingly, he noticed that the sad, melancholy music was being plaid more and more often.

One day, while he was sipping his evening tea, the music stopped halfway, his pianists hands smashing down on the black and white keys. From his window, he could hear soft crying. He realized, suddenly, that his pianist —when did the pianist become _his_ pianist?— was a woman. And that the apartament of the mysterious musician was much closer than he expected. She was probably his next door neighbor.

That's when he made a split decision. Stalking into the kitchen, he used every memory of his mother baking to go off of. He got flour and sugar and all he needed to bake, and then he made cookies. The piano playing never started back up again while he toiled in the kitchen.

The cookies smelled heavenly, as he took them out of the oven. They were a little burnt at the bottom, but he paid it no mind. They still looked delicious.

Placing each one on the cooling tray, he got a plate out and started piling them on. He probably made too many cookies for two people, nevermind one, but he forged on. Armed with cookies and wearing an apron, only black hair sprinkled with flour, he knocked on the door to his neighbors house, the one he'd never met before.

A young woman, with pink hair and watery green eyes greeted him at the door. She gave him a strange look, and asked, "May I help you?" her voice sounding scratchy to him. A single glance behind her showed that he had made the right gamble, because there was a beautiful baby grand piano in her apartament.

"Hi. I'm Uchiha Itachi and I'm your new neighbor. I've been hearing you play your piano for the past three months since I moved in and I just wanted to let you know it's the highlight of my day and you shouldn't be sad when you can make such beautiful music."

He felt like a child, reduced to such simple words and blushes in front of her, but Itachi continued.

He held out the plate of cookies. "I don't know what's got you down but my mother always says a cookie will make you feel better. So, cookie?"

She wiped a tear away with the edge of her heather grey sweater, and smiled at him, reaching for the plate he had offered her. "Thank you, Itachi. I really needed to hear that."

He grinned, liking the smile on the musician. "You're welcome."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: this ones short, but was really fun to write out.

Prompt: prompt #861 from thependragonwritersguild on tumblr

" **What fills your black heart with dread?"**

I don't own Naruto. Enjoy.

* * *

At a seedy bar, deep in the middle of Kusa, Sakura downs another drink of sake. The mission went fine, perfectly in fact. So perfectly she had planned to have a drink to celebrate the rarity of it, but ran into one of the infamous Akatsuki. Just her luck.

 _No wonder the mission went so well,_ she thought grumpily to herself.

He had slicked back hair, that gleamed white even in the yellow lights and magenta eyes. He was watching her tip back glass after glass of the strongest sake in the bar, but what he didn't know was just how high her tolerance was.

He sauntered over, plopping down onto the stool next to hers and waving the very reluctant bartender down. With his order placed, he turned to look at her, and perhaps the sake made her bold. She stared back.

"What fills your black heart with dread?"

He seems completely surprised by her question, but it is she who is more surprised when he considers her question seriously.

"Lots of things, I guess. Not death, but other things," he says, and she is surprised at the sound of his voice. It is higher that she expected it to be.

"And how do you know for sure my heart is black?"

She snorts into the cup of alcohol she just poured for herself. "Well, I know it's not golden."

He laughs loudly. "Right you are, kunoichi. It's more of a bright, obnoxious purple."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: hello you beautiful people. Here's the next prompt, enjoy.

Prompt 9: neighbors

I don't own Naruto.

* * *

Neji knows exactly when his neighbors are home. Most days, at six o' clock, one of them loses the key and has to find it. They have to walk past his door to get to their apartment.

"I'm just saying, Forehead, red is not your color!"

"Ugh, and you think eggplant purple is the right color for you either?"

"I cannot believe you, it's iris! _Iris!"_

The eye roll is audible from his kitchen. "Okay, whatever makes you sleep at night, Pig."

"Don't you know your hair makes most things you wear clash?"

"As if! There's plenty I can still wear! Like mint, for example."

"Yeah, but that baby yellow you like makes you look like a giant flower, no wonder you attract bees."

"Rude. I look good in blue!"

"You never wear blue! You always wear that bright red or maroon and neither go, hate to tell you."

"Some fashion designer you are, letting your best friend out in clashing colors, says something about you—"

"Not that you would listen anyway would you, Forehead? You're too focused on your books to—"

"I've got more important things to do than worry about boys! I can't—"

"You wear scrubs!"

"I'm in training, what do you expect?"

"You should have some consideration—"

"I'm hands deep in guts some days—"

"You'll never get a boy like that. One look at you and they'll run away!"

Neji opens the door. "Ladies."

The two loud neighbors he has never met before turn to stare at him, groceries in hand, and he is not perturbed.

"Please, stop having loud conversation outside my door."

The woman with the pink hair has the decency to look embarrassed. "I am so sorry!" She says.

Neji waves them off. He's not about to tell them that they're actually rather amusing.


End file.
